"It is no ordinary television," said Chiun. "It is an enchanted television."
"Enchanted television, my Buttafuoco," said Remo. "It's Japanese."
The others looked closely and saw the brand name: Nishitsu.
"Truly it is a Japanese TV, as well as a freaking one," muttered Kula.
"Is it a Zen oracle?" Lobsang Drom asked. "I cannot accept visions from an oracle that is Zen."
The Master of Sinanju shook his head sagely. "It is not Zen. And it will show us the new Bunji Lama if he lives."
"The Bunji Lama always lives," said Lobsang Drom.
"Not for long if you don't let him out of his trunk," said Remo.
Abruptly the Master of Sinanju clapped his hands together. "In order to consult the oracle, we must first consult the guide," he proclaimed. "Remo, fetch the mystic guide."
"What guide?"
"The guide to the oracle, witless one," Chiun hissed. "Are your ears filled with hardened wax?"
"No, but my nose is clogged from the stink of whatever's in that freaking trunk."
"I did not know it was a freaking trunk," muttered Kula.
"The guide is always kept in a place of honor atop the oracle so that it will not be misplaced by careless servants," Chiun said pointedly. "Now, bring it to us."
"Oh, that guide," said Remo. He padded over to the TV set and brought back the current week's issue. Chiun accepted it and turned it around so that the others could see the cover clearly.
"I cannot read those English characters," said Lobsang Drom, squinting.
"I can," said Kula. "The red shape forms the words, TV Guide. The Master speaks truly. It is the legendary TV Guide. Very rare to find a copy in this land of America."
"One shape makes two words?" said Lobsang Drom in wonderment.
"You should talk about another person's language," said Remo.
Lobsang Drom leaned closer, squinting at the cover. "Is that a dugpa I see?"
Remo looked. He didn't know what a dugpa was, but he figured it was as good a name for Roseanne Arnold as any.
"She is the most feared dugpa on American television," he assured the Tibetan.
"I do not know this word, ted-a-vish-on, " said Lobsang Drom slowly.
Remo asked, "Where have you been living-in a cave?"
"Yes."
Remo blinked. Then Chiun began consulting the guide to the oracle.
"I vote for 'The Twilight Zone,'" Remo whispered. "Rod Serling's usually good for putting things in perspective."
"Hush!" Chiun hissed. "I seek an augury of the Bunji Lama's fate in this guide."
"And if you find it?" asked Lobsang Drom.
"It will foretell the most auspicious time to consult the oracle on the fate of the Bunji Lama, which will be revealed to us on the dark screen of glass."
Lobsang Drom nodded. It was strange magic but not much stranger than a Tibetan oracle. Perhaps there was hope after all.
Remo noticed that Chiun was consulting the evening listings.
"If you find the Bunji Lama in there," he whispered, "I'll eat whatever's in that trunk."
His face tightening like a spiderweb whose anchorings were stretched taut, the Master of Sinanju ran a long-nailed forefinger down the listings.
"According to the guide to the oracle," he announced solemnly, "the Bunji Lama will be revealed to us at midnight."
Remo closed his eyes. His mind told him that midnight was less than an hour away. He hadn't needed a watch in years. He always knew what time it was. He just didn't know how he knew.
"I have lived for this moment most of my life," said Lobsang Drom, his voice trembling.
"This is a great moment," agreed Kula.
"This is a great big scam," Remo muttered.
"Scam?" said Lobsang Drom.
"It is American slang," said Chiun quickly. "It means a glorious occurrence."
"Yes, it is a great scam we are on the brink of," said Kula. And they drank tea in silence as they waited for the hour of midnight to strike.
"Anyone for opening the trunk?" Remo asked at one point.
Chiun shook his aged head. "It is not yet time."
"So what do we do-sit here telling camp-fire stories?" Remo snapped.
"I will build a fire," Kula said, starting to rise.
"No fire is necessary for those of us who sit in the presence of the Worshipful Nameless Ones in the Dark Who See the Light That is Coming," said Chiun in a magnanimous voice.
Seeing that the old Korean meant Lobsang Drom, Remo said, "Him? It's not dark, he told us his name and besides, he stuck his tongue out the moment he first laid eyes on me."
"Then you should be honored," said Chiun.
"Why should I be honored?" said Remo.
"In Tibet to display the tongue is to give greetings. "
"And you a chiding, " added Kula.
Remo looked his question.
"A foreigner," explained Kula.
"Foreigner? This is my country, not his."
"Now," said Kula.
"What do you mean-now?"
"The Khan of Khans talks of following in the war boots of Lord Genghis, may his praises be sung forever. At the proper moment, he intends to topple the citified Mongols who govern in Ulan Bator. Once that is done, China, Russia and other lands will follow. Korea will be spared, of course."
"I do not care what happens to South Korea, as long as no unpleasant sounds reach my village," said Chiun dismissively.
"Considerate of you," said Remo.
"North Korea will be spared," resumed Kula the Mongol. "Europe will fall in time, and then perhaps this country, if there is sufficient booty and the women are compliant."
"American women are about as compliant as mules," Remo said.
Kula grinned broadly. "I will be happy to tame these American mules."
"A lot of them are diseased. You could catch leprosy or something worse."
"I do not fear their diseases, for American women now have condoms of their very own. Their condoms will protect Mongol men from their diseases."
"Just try to get an American woman to wear one," Remo growled.
Kula leaned over to Remo and confided, "I have heard that they squeak like mice in bed."
"I never heard a woman squeak in bed in my life."
"I meant the condom."
"Let's just change the subject," said Remo, rolling his eyes. "You're a Mongol. Why are you so worried about Tibet?"
"The Chinese think Tibet is Chinese. The Tibetans know they are Tibetan. They are fighting now, which is good. Tibetans do not fight as much as they should, and so they are conquered often. At least once every second century."
"But we are fighting now," said Lobsang Drom.
Kula nodded. "Now you fight. It is a good thing."
"I hear they're getting the crap kicked out of them," said Remo.
"Should they lose, and Tibet become a slave of China forever," said Kula, "the Chinese who think they rule Inner Mongolia will turn their eyes upon Outer Mongolia. This should not happen too soon, before Boldbator Khan unites all of Mongolia. Otherwise, Mongols might lose. And then we will never own the world. Excepting North Korea, of course," he added for Chiun's benefit.
"I do not care about all of North Korea," Chiun said. "Only my village of Sinanju."
Kula brightened. "You would not object if we sack Pyongyang?"
"Pyongyang is yours if the wailing of the vanquished does not keep innocent Sinanju babies awake at night."
"It is agreed. There will be no unseemly wailing. Any so inconsiderate as to wail will be beheaded without mercy."
"Before you divide up the whole world," Remo inserted, "let's stay on the subject. Where does the Bunji Lama fit into this?"
"We Mongols have always followed the Bunji Lama. This is well-known, White Tiger."
Chiun said, "Remo must be forgiven, for he is an orphan and raised by virgins."